Picturesque Indifference.
my angel is made of flowers,
but he is not composed of common weeds
or of daisies and violets.
his hair is the color of Japanese maple leaves
his eyes are buddleia in bloom when
butterflies travel to the flowering plant
his skin is budding magnolias,
and cheeks like the blushing hydrangea
his teeth are white roses
and his lips are veronicas aspiring towards the heavens
eternally beautiful he would be if he would allow for me to draw him
but when I inquire his japanese maple leaves shake
and from his veronicas he quietly whispers in my ear,
my dear it matters not to me, I am the soul of
picturesque indifference.
01 April 1998
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